


I need some Christmas spirit

by yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)



Series: Songs from the Jukebox [Prompt Fills] [62]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Drunkenness, Eggnog, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, POV Patrick Brewer, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:29:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28100946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau
Summary: David can handle his alcohol, is the thing. So no, it doesn’t occur to Patrick to warn him.It probably should have.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Songs from the Jukebox [Prompt Fills] [62]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775569
Comments: 34
Kudos: 199





	I need some Christmas spirit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [danieljradcliffe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/danieljradcliffe/gifts).



> For the Tumblr prompt [fluffy holiday fic prompts prompts #21: too much eggnog](https://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com/post/637071439079636992/fluffy-holiday-fic-prompts) from the absolutely wonderful danieljradcliffe -- thank you so much for the prompt!! 💖 
> 
> Title is from Big & Rich.

It doesn’t occur to Patrick to warn David. After all, he’s heard all about David’s time in New York; the drugs and the partying and the drinking. He’s seen David put away a dozen polar bear shots with Stevie and still manage to operate the karaoke machine. He’s seen David wine drunk, giggly and flirty but still with enough control to keep his litany of all the filthy thing he wants to do to Patrick low enough that they don’t get kicked out of the restaurant. 

David can handle his alcohol, is the thing. So no, it doesn’t occur to Patrick to warn him. 

It probably should have.

“Hey, baby!”

It’s not the slurring of David’s voice that really gets Patrick’s attention; it’s the _baby_ , a word that rarely passes David’s lips and never outside of the bedroom. He peers at David, loose-limbed and relaxed as he spreads his arms along the back of Patrick’s parents’ sofa, clearly waiting for Patrick to sit down and tuck himself into David’s side, and then he glances at the glass in David’s hand.

“David, how much eggnog have you had?”

Patrick _really_ should have warned him. His dad’s spiked eggnog is notorious for knocking people off their feet; he hasn’t forgotten the year his uncle fully passed out at the dining table halfway through lunch, or the year he and Rachel snuck some on Christmas Eve when no one was looking and then Rachel had spent the night throwing up in the bathroom, his mom wringing her hands anxiously fretting over whether she’d given Rachel food poisoning somehow. The stuff is lethal — apparently even for someone with an alcohol tolerance as high as his husband’s. 

David frowns down at the glass in confusion. “I’m not sure. It keeps being not empty!”

“Uh huh.” Patrick chokes back a laugh at the look of intense consternation currently gracing David’s features as though he’s trying to unravel the mystery of the never-emptying eggnog. “Has my dad been keeping you topped up?”

David gasps, his face lighting up. “Yes! He’s so nice, your dad. And your mom. Nice, nice people who made my nice husband.” He starts flailing his arms and before Patrick can step out of the danger zone David’s hand wraps around his wrist, tugging at him until Patrick lands in an ungainly heap in his lap. He tries to sit up but David’s arms snake around his waist, his lips pressing sloppy kisses to Patrick’s neck.

“David—”

“Mm, you’re my nice husband. The nicest.” 

“Oh, well nice to know I’m your _nicest_ husband. I’d hate to think I was halfway down the list.” 

David’s hands slide up his back to his neck, fingers scratching lightly at his hairline. “Baby.” He leans in, face uncharacteristically serious even though his gaze is slightly unfocused, and Patrick tries valiantly to keep his smirk at bay. “You’re my _only_ husband.”

“I’m glad.” With David’s hands no longer keeping him in place Patrick manages to sit up so they’re in a slightly less compromising position. “You’re my only husband too.”

A languid smile stretches across David’s face at the words; the sort of smile that still makes Patrick’s breath catch in his throat with the beauty of it. “Mm, I’m glad.” He wriggles around until he’s plastered up against Patrick’s side, his face pressed into Patrick’s neck. “I’m so glad you married me.”

Patrick swallows back the well of emotion in his throat at the bold — if alcohol-fuelled — sincerity. “I’m glad you married me too, David. Every day.” 

The only response he gets from David is a soft snore, and he laughs quietly as he presses a soft kiss into David’s hair.

Yeah, he really should have warned David about the strength of the eggnog.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com/).


End file.
